Vincent Carême Vouvray Le Peu Morier 2008

Last week I wrote about Domaine Vacheron in Sancerre, and in particular I
tried to draw attention towards their approach to the 'regionality' of
terroir in Sancerre, not least by highlighting their introduction of several single vineyard
cuvées in the 2010 vintage. When I consider the soils, the approach, the
winemaking methods, some aspects of Sancerre - especially Domaine Vacheron's
Sancerre - begin to look more like a lost
village of Burgundy than a wine region that belongs to the
Loire.

Of course the concept of terroir, and its significance with regard to wine,
is not unique to Burgundy, nor Sancerre,
nor indeed any other wine region or appellation you care to name. It applies wherever the vine is
planted, to one extent or another. Sure, no wine region in the world is carved
up to the same extent as Burgundy, but that doesn't mean that there are no
distinctions to be drawn when comparing one vineyard with another (or rather,
comparing their respective wines) in other regions. It is
probably more that we simply haven't looked property; while wine critics and
wine writers obsess over the minutiae of the Côte d'Or, or
of Piemonte, other regions go entirely
overlooked. The Loire Valley,
perhaps the most famous region to be given the cold shoulder in this manner, is a case in point.

Take Vouvray for example. Ask any wine drinker to name an interesting
vineyard, and I expect you will receive, at most, four names. And these are, in what I imagine is the
most likely order in which they will be suggested; Clos du Bourg, Le Mont,
Le
Haut Lieu (all in the possession of Domaine Huet, of course) and
Clos Baudoin
(previously the dominion of Prince Poniatowski, now being revitalised by
François Chidaine). And what comes next? Even as a
self-confessed Loire geek I struggle. There
is the Le Marigny sector, where Bernard Fouquet has vines. And I know there are
some nice vineyards around Vernou-sur-Brenne, and up the Vallée de Cousse, where
Vincent Carême and
François Pinon can be found. But you can see I am already
cheating; I'm trying to distract you from the fact I'm not so good on rattling
off some Vouvray-vineyard names by throwing in the names of a few well-respected
vignerons instead.

This, with regard to Vouvray in particular, is something I need to put right,
although I can envisage a long period of study and maybe one or two or maybe
more visits to the region being necessary to do so. I am sure there are great vineyard sites on the
première côte - the limestone scarp that runs alongside the alluvial plain
of the Loire - of which I am unaware, and the same again with the
deuxièmes côtes, the valley slopes which run along the tributaries that flow
through the Vouvray appellation, including the Brenne and the Cousse.
And I am sure there are many domaines here, beyond the usual suspects of
Huet,
Foreau and the like, which I have
not yet discovered. In the meantime, while I think about how I am going to
tackle this hole in my knowledge (and where I am going to find the time) this
weekend's wine comes from the lieu-ditLe Peu Morier, which lies on the
première côte just west of Vernou-sur-Brenne (so here is the fifth
vineyard for my Vouvray list). The soils are clay and
flint over the obvious limestone, the wine the 2008 Vouvray Le Peu Morier from Vincent Carême. In the glass this has a very rich, concentrated,
yellow-gold hue. The striking feature of this wine is the evident concentration,
suggested by the wine's hue, but undeniable when it comes to the nose,
which is full of desiccated fruit-skin character, with hints of dried apricots,
yellow plums and also a little scent of stem ginger. In the mouth this has a
beautiful substance, the deep vinous concentration more significant in terms of
defining the palate than the evident residual sugar. This is pithy, rich in
ripe, golden-yellow orchard fruit, all autumn pears and apricots, with a fine,
savoury grip. This is a dense wine of great substance, definitely very demi-sec,
and hugely convincing. This is proper Vouvray, from what is evidently a fine
terroir, and made with a skilled hand. Delicious. Naturally, I have tucked a
six-pack away in the cellar to see how this evolves. In the meantime, I'm off to
read up on who or what Morier was, and find out whether he really was
peu. 18/20 (26/5/14)